Should I Stay or Should I Go
by double scotch.single malt
Summary: Derek and Meredith interlude, Season 1 throwback, "Shake Your Groove Thing", read and it might take you back to where it all started! This one-shot is rated T for everyone!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al.**

**Author's Note: I have long-since believed that this was Derek's theme song (and apparently still is), anyway, this throwback is for Kelly (my little McVet), chin up girl, I love ya and I know all of your dreams are about to come true!**

**I also know you asked for a porny story, but I'm working on something else that's put me in a darker more sensitive place … so this is what happened when I took an impromptu break from that piece. Enjoy it girl and for anyone else who chooses to read … please let me know what you think!**

**Should I Stay or Should I Go**

Lyrics for The Clash's, "Should I Stay or Should I Go":

Wooh!

Darling you got to let me know  
>Should I stay or should I go?<br>If you say that you are mine  
>I'll be here 'til the end of time<br>So you got to let me know  
>Should I stay or should I go?<p>

Always tease tease tease  
>You're happy when I'm on my knees<br>One day is fine, next day is black  
>So if you want me off your back<br>Well come on and let me know  
>Should I stay or should I go?<p>

Should I stay or should I go now?  
>Should I stay or should I go now?<br>If I go there will be trouble  
>An' if I stay it will be double<br>So come on and let me know!

This indecision's bugging me  
>Esta indecision me molesta<br>If you don't want me, set me free  
>Si no me quieres, librame<br>Exactly whom I'm supposed to be  
>Dime que tengo que ser<br>Don't you know which clothes even fit me?  
>¿sabes que ropas me quedan?<br>Come on and let me know  
>Me tienes que decir<br>Should I cool it or should I blow?  
>¿me debo ir o quedarme?<p>

Split!  
>Yo me enfrio o lo sufro<p>

Should I stay or should I go now?  
>yo me enfrio o lo sufro<br>Should I stay or should I go now?  
>yo me enfrio o lo sufro<br>If I go there will be trouble  
>Si me voy - va a haber peligro<br>And if I stay it will be double  
>Si me quedo es doble<br>So you gotta let me know  
>Pero me tienes que decir<br>Should I cool it or should I go?  
>yo me enfrio o lo sufro<p>

Should I stay or should I go now?  
>yo me enfrio o lo sufro<br>If I go there will be trouble  
>Si me voy - va a haber peligro<br>And if I stay it will be double  
>Si me quedo es doble<br>So you gotta let me know  
>Pero me tienes que decir<br>Should I stay or should I go?

###

**Should I Stay or Should I Go**

_Should I stay or should I go now?  
>Should I stay or should I go now?<br>If I go there will be trouble  
>An' if I stay it will be double<br>So come on and let me know!_

He backed into the tight parking space he was relieved to find just outside of Meredith's house, where the party, dubbed _'Doctorpalooza'_ was raging on without a thought to the outside world, so raucous that he could hear the rhythmic thump of the music through the lyrics of one his old favorites. He turned the car off and with that went the music and all that was left was the beat reverberating from inside the house. He sighed and wondered if this was a bad idea … thinking briefly that he should pull away … _and not just from the curb. _He chuckled then; one of those self-deprecating exhales the body makes when the mind argues with heart … battling over indecisions.

He closed his eyes and listened to the far off thump, losing himself in the beat for a long moment before he righted himself and opened his eyes again and decided this was a terrible idea. Because it was, he had a lot of thinking to do and going inside that house would only cloud his judgment. Because, the truth of the matter was, Meredith Grey made him feel _'not normal'_, the woman continuously tossed him on his head, shook him upside, turned his insides out … and that both scared and exhilarated him.

He was exhilarated, suddenly more energized and challenged than he had been in years, too many years to count and in the end, he realized he just needed a sign – _a signal to go off and let him know that change was going to come _– though he wished it didn't come in the form of his wife and best friends betraying him the way they did. He also knew now that he had been lost directionally for years and even after he accepted Richard's proposal and moved across the country … he still felt imbalanced. Truthfully, he was still waiting for a sign … and then she materialized … and it wasn't their one-night-stand, no … it wasn't that – _it was the circumstances of their second meeting that had him so intrigued_ – it was their timing, the meant-to-be aspect of their union that had captivated him so … it was the thrilling idea of their destiny or fates combined.

Sighing, he thought of his life and how he so desperately wanted to change it – _run away from his problems in New York_ – how he longed to just breathe again and then he knew what he had to do … he had to end it, fix his life and move forward. He started the car, sighing in defeat and made to pull away from the curb … until she materialized again … and his plans suddenly changed.

"_No, seriously, I mean, come on, go out with me."_

His own words rang in his ears as he watched her from the warmth of the car, her hips swaying, her full lips around the bottle of tequila, her poison of choice, that much he knew, remembered the taste of her lips and tongue against his – _tequila and recklessness _– that's what they were made of that night … and ever since then, he really couldn't get her or her eyes or her body out of his head.

"_It's the chase, isn't it?"_

But then again, her words were there now too and suddenly he was in it – _they were in it_ – so deep, he knew it would be hard for him to turn back – _for there was something simply intoxicating about Meredith Grey (and no it wasn't the tequila)_ – for she was unlike any woman he'd ever met … _strong, loyal, sexy, sad_ … and wise beyond her years. But all of what apparently made her tick wasn't why he was drawn to pursue her … to chase her … because if he were being completely honest, chasing her wasn't nearly as thrilling as the prospect of catching her.

"_I've been wondering to myself, why are you so hell bent on getting me to go out with you?"_

Her words again, playing over and over in his mind now as she rocked her hips back and forth, her head lolling back now and again – _her delectable clavicle ripe for the taking under the yellow porch lights of this sudden frat house she lived in_ – where was the quiet, solitude of that night and why did she have to go and find roommates?

"_Well, it's fun, isn't it?"_

His words again, his single most coherent thought as he spoke with her and he could tell by the hint of mischief in her eyes that she was game – _his heart shimmied_ – he needed to come clean, he watched her move, swaying again to a beat of her own creation. He tilted his head and regarded her _– it really wasn't the sex_ – he decided right then and there, it was how he felt the moment he woke up with her after the first time they'd been together …_'safe'_ was the only word he'd been able to come up with.

He felt safe and at peace and remembered pondering this idea for long moment while they lay entwined on the sofa together that night – _their breathing labored as he memorized the way her nude body felt against his_ – his mind swiftly recalling the perfect weight of her breast cupped inside the palm of his hand and the way he felt absolutely consumed by her … and how he just wanted more.

"_This is a game to you. But not to me."_

Her words again and no … she was wrong – _this was no game he was playing_ – a fact he was well aware of from the very beginning, he knew that when she rolled comfortably in his arms that first night, he knew the games were over. So over … with his body intimately connected to hers while she came hard and fast with him – _the facets of her eyes almost black with orgasmic intensity as he watched her cum and she let him in_ – just a little bit. Just enough for him to see the real woman she was … the one who, much like him … really was hiding the depths of her pain.

And so that was how it went with Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd, two adults making grown-up, complicated choices – _Katie Bryce, Allison the fighter-orphan, Jorge and Sona, cheese omelets or cold pizza, to chase or to acquiesce _– and while they worked together, he often wondered how he could make all of that stop just long enough to figure this thing out and talk to her like she deserved … like an adult would … like a man who hadn't meant to fall in love with a woman who wasn't his wife. Except that he did – _fall hard and fast for her_ – and therein he found himself here … at her home, where he could blow this all out of the water, let her friends see them together, screw the sneaking around … he was here and so was she and there was no turning back.

"_Did you get to hold the heart?" _

He remembered asking her earlier in the day before it all turned around on her _– having heard about this party, he figured, he'd drop by, try to spend a couple minutes alone with her_ – but now, with the events of the day unfolding as they did, all he really wanted to do was sneak upstairs with her and make all the pain go away … and not in sexual sense, but in a sense that it was what people did when they were … together.

"_Are you okay?"_

His words again, he persisted with her because … he knew she was lying. All day he knew and because whether he wanted to or not, he was in too deep, already genuinely interested, despite her elusiveness. And within that swirling range of thoughts – _thoughts of making things right between them, coming clean, having something real and tangible, chasing and catching and caring for her _– Derek swiftly exited the car, the damp air cloaking him as he walked around to the passenger side where he leaned back and against the cool metal of the car. And there inside this moment, he became lost in this woman who had so much to hide.

"_Yeah, yeah, I'm good."_

Her words again and it turned out he was right, she was definitely wasn't okay. And therein she looked tiny to him tonight, smaller, more frail and innocent than he ever remembered … with the way her lavender sweater hung on her, the color, beautiful on her – _while the cut was all wrong for her_ – too big for her sexy physique and statuesque figure he knew she was hiding. He tilted his head then and felt a smile form on his face as he marveled at her from afar while she continued to dance and sway around on her porch with a bottle of tequila. He chuckled to himself then and wondered how she did it so well, hid her pain and the duress she must have been under with the implications of her puncturing that heart.

"_Are you sure, cause you seem not okay."_

His words, his reply as he tried to read her, to assess where her beautiful mind was – _and he often wondered where she wandered off to with those beautiful green eyes of hers_ – especially when she seemed besieged with pain and something else he had yet to discover, though he knew enough to know that he wanted to know … _everything_ about her and that he … _cared_.

_She danced and swayed, somehow in tune with the rhythm and thump of the music coming from inside the house … she swayed and danced and faltered and he lost himself in her movements, until he heard his voice. _

"You know, in some states, you could get arrested for that," he sassed then as she looked up to find him, focusing for a beat before her intense eyes softened around the edges and she turned and began to slowly walk toward him. "So … you blew me off for a bottle of tequila," he smiled smugly. "Tequila's no good for ya … it doesn't call … it doesn't write … it isn't nearly as much fun to wake up to," he flirted shamelessly as he came to stand before her. She smiled broadly and pulled on his shirt collar pressing her tequila-soaked lips against his, pulsing, _once, twice.  
><em>  
>"Take me for a ride, Derek," she giggled breathlessly, snaking her hand down to his where she pulled him toward his car.<p>

Backing her up then, they moved down the small walkway together, their lips mingling, her hand on the neck of the bottle, his around her trim waist as he eventually pinned her against the car and cupped her delicate face in his hands. "You okay?" he husked as he kissed her open mouth, his mind wild with how perfect she felt against him – _groove to groove, muscle to muscle, body to body _– the music drummed on in the background and he felt her become pliant in his arms, his fingertips dancing along the smooth planes of her cheeks, tucked deep inside her blond tresses.

"Yeah, yeah … just, kiss me," she whispered thickly, slipping her free hand into one of his back pockets where she palmed his ass and pulled him toward her, kissing him senseless.

_Derek tread water then, deluge with all that she did to him, he kissed her, long and hard, their hands moving, touching, groping as he thought about taking her for that drive … back to the trailer … home with him … home. _

"Do you really want me to take you for a ride?" he husked into their heat, his forehead pressed against her, his body reacting to hers like a moth to flame _… 'more, more'._

"No," she giggled breathlessly where he spotted a single twinkle emerging from her eyes. "We can make out in your car though," she suggested thickly, a hint of mischief there now too.

"Hmm," he hummed as he kissed her deeply, his tongue massaging against hers before she sucked on his bottom lip, tugging at his nerves there, his fingers working the key into the car tiny lock behind her. "Front or back," he wondered aloud moving her aside as he opened the door.

"Sit," she ordered breathlessly, motioning to the empty passenger seat.

Derek smiled and did as he was told wherein Meredith leaned down and across him, situating her open bottle into the cup holder in the center console, her breathless giggle filling the small compartment as she steadied herself with her hand pressed against the top of his seat and somehow managed to straddle him, her thighs against his now – _her hands flanking his skull as she held him there and he, her as he stared her, basking in the dim interior light_ – her pink cheeks round and almost happy as she stared at him for a long moment.

"_So is this a good place to hang out?"_

His first words to her swallowing him whole as he closed the car door and everything became dark and private, where without thinking he pulled her head toward his and kissed her, softer now, taking his time … because suddenly it seemed like they had all the time in the world – _they had this moment haphazardly created by them_ – he kissed her, moving his large hands from her face to settle them on her hips, already rotating over him as she held on tight and inched herself closer.

"You're incredible," he said thickly into the heat ricocheting between them. She pressed her lips to his, _pulse, pulse,_ her nimble fingertips working at the buttons of his shirt before she abandoned them all together in favor of his belt buckle.

"I'm hot," she whispered then where he caught her eyes with his, shimmering, wild in the dark … his heart pounded.

"You are," he agreed, eliciting a giggle from his new lover, his lips pressed to her clavicle before he inched them upwards and found her pulse, _kiss, kiss,_ he massaged her there – _lifeline to lifeline_ – completely turned on from her arousal and apparent want of him, he shifted beneath her, his fingertips finding the electronic seat controls where he promptly reclined his seat back. She moved over him, his straining cock no longer concealed. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her head down to kiss her again.

"Hmm, feels so good," she muttered against his open mouth as she rotated her hips, around she went, adding just the right amount of pressure.

She hummed into their heat then and he felt relax, become heavier in his arms, her lips still attached to his as she pulled his shirt tails from his pants and tickled his bare skin, the massage of her long, surgeon's fingers, both delicate and deliberate –_ 'God, she felt so good' _– was all he could think as his own hands moved along her bare midriff, tickling her soft skin there.

"This needs to come off," Meredith said between kisses as she pulled on the lapel of his jacket, her fingertips moving beneath the heavier garment immediately in an effort to slip it from his shoulders.

_Derek impulsively leaned forward and let her have her way with him, pushing the offending garment aside, using his core muscles to hold them steady as he pulled the jacket off and tossed it into the backseat, Meredith's lips on his neck now as she focused on the last of the tiny ecru buttons of his shirt, his chest on fire – his skin paradoxically cooled as the humid air hit his bare flesh – along with a sinuous trail of her tiny, wet kisses. His cock twitched with need … his hip flexed up, but she held him in place with her thighs until she was finished with the buttons._

"I want this off too," she breathed as he found her eyes in the dark … so green they were almost black. "I want you, but … not here, like this … I want …just … skin on skin," she intimated, her lips descending upon his again as she pulled him forward, this time moving her warm hands against his broad shoulders where she freed him of his shirt, her thumbs caressing the tiny trillion beads of his nipples before she ducked down and swirled her tongue around one of them, _swirl, swirl, bite, flick, flick. _

"Hmm … skin on skin," he muttered, losing himself in her now, his own hands moving beneath the hem of her sweater again, pushing the soft cashmere textile _up, up, up,_ until she swiftly pulled it over her head and let it fall away, his eyes immediately drawn to her breasts and the way her beyond sexy bra accentuated just what God gave her. "Jesus," he sighed, reaching up to move her hair from her face. "You're …," _'a breathe of fresh air'_, he finished silently as he stared at her.

_His breathing stacked as Meredith smiled down at him, shifting her hips as she cupped his face in her hands and began to kiss him in earnest again, her mouth moving languidly over his as his hands began to roam, tickling her ribs – following each perfect curve of each perfect bone before he caressed the underside of her breasts, just beneath the silky fabric – his hips flexing as she grinded against his denim-clad cock while he slowly moved his lips from her mouth down along the regal column of her neck, stopping briefly at her pulse point where he brushed the tip his tongue against her pulsing flesh in a series of open-mouthed kisses. _

_The temperature in the car was hot now, steaming as the new lovers explored one another's bodies, the world and all of the ugly in it disappearing with each caress, with each kiss and sincere sentiment they made, wherein the essence of their sexual energy soon became ripe akin to a softened fruit on a vine – the timing for its fall suddenly perfect – as they too reacted and let themselves fall, just a little bit harder for one another. _

_Derek's earlier reflections making their way full circle now, infringing on his moment with her just long enough for him to acknowledge his feelings. For as the windows became foggy with all that they did to one another – he knew he would have to stand by his earlier intentions in coming over her tonight – because there was no denying it … he wanted this … wanted to see her … to check on her and to be alone with her – even if that meant, like this … in the middle of the night, in his car like a couple of teenagers hiding from their parents … he wanted this … he wanted her. _

_Her sweet elixir consumed him then and he let it, for there was something about her, a freshness, a newness and also something so forlorn and sad it was like looking into a mirror sometimes ... and therein, as he kissed the swell of her breasts again, his open mouth moving along the edge of her silky bra now, kiss, kiss, more, more, just one taste – he listened to her breathe his name, the intense moan of her catcall the only sound he needed to hear to know he'd taken her someplace else too … someplace where … maybe there wasn't so much sadness. _

_Pulling away from her sumptuous flesh – Derek came up for air – pressing his forehead against hers now as they began to breathe in tandem, blue eyes pinned to green, sewn together, stitch, stitch, stitch, hearts beating to a rhythm of their making, one that worked for them, for now – secrets aside – it worked and he really wanted it to … he wanted to come up for air with her again and again. _

_Smiling weakly, he pulled his shirt free and kissed her lips again, moving the ecru cotton garment around her shoulders where he chuckled at how big it seemed on her. _

"You know, it sounds like the party's winding down," he said softly after another minute. She tickled his ribs, her more playful eyes bouncing now. "Listen to me!" he chuckled, holding her gaze, drawn to cup her face in his hands. "We should probably sneak inside now," he suggested, wanting nothing more than to spend the night … making out, holding her … sexing her.

"We've done enough sneaking for the night," she giggled, pushing her hair away from her face. "It was good sneaking, but enough sneaking," she laughed, leaning forward.

"Yeah, I'd say we're pretty good sneakers," Derek agreed, moving to pull fallen shirt around her shoulders again.

His eyes fixed on hers as she pressed her palms into his thighs and leaned forward to kiss him, slowly again, the urgency gone – _somehow replaced with familiarity_ – the pair of them startled when they heard a sharp rap on the window, followed by a brief moment of horror when they saw Dr. Miranda Bailey staring down at them.

"You mind moving this tail wagon? You're blocking me in," she said harshly, her brow raised in judgment.

"Apparently not good enough," Derek muttered, his hands flanking Meredith's cheeks as he watched any and all color she had drain from them.

"Shit," she mumbled as they watched Dr. Bailey get into her car and wait for them.

"Here," Derek said, digging into the pocket of his pants. He handed Meredith the key. "Climb over, it'll be quicker if you do it," he suggested, Miranda Bailey's eyes mercilessly deadlocked on them now.

"Okay," Meredith agreed, pushing herself off of Derek to make her way over, carefully avoiding the abandoned tequila bottle.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, pulling on the shirttails.

Meredith gasped and turned around. "Derek! What?" she prompted, her eyes wide.

"You're sober now, right?" he teased, tilting his head as he laughed heartily.

"Unfortunately, yes," she deadpanned. "Not funny," she murmured with a smirk as she started to climb and turn into the drivers' seat.

_Derek watched Meredith turn the car on and maneuver out of the tight spot, pulling aside the parked car in front of them just long enough to allow Dr. Bailey to move her car before she backed back into their same spot. _

"Come on," Derek breathed when he spotted the ashen look upon her face. "Let me take you home," he said, setting his hand upon her forearm as he sat in defeat.

"I am home," she said, turning to him. "Have you seen my sweater?" she asked, her mind obviously teeming with the implications of what just happened.

"I'll deal with it," Derek said as he handed her sweater to her. "I'll talk to her, tell her we met –"

"No!" Meredith insisted; she took his shirt off and slipped her sweater back on. "No, first – _after tomorrow_ – there might not be anything to have to deal with, Burke could sell me down the river," she breathed, her eyes misting slightly.

"C'mon, you don't know that," Derek replied as he slipped his shirt back on and began to work on the buttons.

"I do … it's the nature of being me," she whispered wherein he spotted just a hint of a weakness he didn't think she had in her. "I'm so screwed, even if they don't kick me out of the program … this … Dr. Bailey's gonna make it … I know her, I'm screwed," she rambled softly.

"No … you aren't," he insisted, trying to sound confident, but he knew she was right, though he also knew, if he wanted this – _and he did_ – it was in part, up to him to make it right ... he just had no idea how to do it … their lives were suddenly so complicated.

_Meredith pulled on the handle and let herself out of the car. Derek hastily got out to join her, coming around to the driver's side of the car where she remained, leaning back, looking at the much more manageable ebb and flow of party-goers. He sighed, his hot breath twirling into the damp Seattle night, the air a stark difference from the warmth they'd created in the car. He smiled weakly and came to stand in front of her, his heart shimmying somewhere low and deep at the sight of her alabaster skin – her smile gone from her eyes – replaced now by a set of threatening tears wherein all he could think in that moment was how beautiful she was. _

_She snaked her hand around his waist then and pulled him forward, pressing her lips to his, pulsing slowly, becoming heavier in his arms as she did. _

"I wish you didn't want to be alone tonight," he said finally, _truthfully_. She smiled and for a split-second he thought she might change her mind, though he also knew she wouldn't. He pressed his lips together and twisted them into a pout; she giggled at his antics. "You're okay," he whispered intimately, like he'd done it forever, been the one to make her feel better.

"I'm okay," she confessed, like she'd known him for years already, like he really did make her feel better.

**-END-  
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